Stolen By The Bratva King (NYC Russian Royals #2)

Chapter 56

56

Leon

D ante slumps in my arms, and I drop him instantly.

He hits the ground with a thud, but not a sound passes his lips, and I realize he’s already dead. Quick, painless, and a privilege the asshole didn’t earn.

The bullet didn’t go all the way through him, so I’m unscathed. I don’t think Reggiani sacrificed his son just to get to me; he did it because he felt like it.

I get it. Who wouldn’t tire of a chaotic amateur like Dante Firenze? The idea that he could restore his father’s respected status seems laughable. It’s hard to know who was more of a fantasist out of the two of them.

I whip my arm up before Reggiani has a chance to fire again, my gun aimed at his head. He has the sound instincts of a real bastard, and rather than threaten me, it’s Emery who’s looking down his gun barrel.

“Point your gun at me , you fucker,” I say.

I don’t take my eyes off him, and Emery speaks quietly, trying to soothe the frightened Desi.

“You shoot her, and I’ll have nothing to lose. You wanna see what that looks like?”

Reggiani balks slightly. He’s not as sure of himself as he was; perhaps seeing his only son’s blood pooling on the floor has rattled him.

“We said no weapons,” he says. “For you, anyway.”

“You knew I’d bring one. I couldn’t trust you to keep your word.”

I give Dante a swift kick, watching Reggiani’s face for a reaction, but he’s like stone.

“I let Dante search me, and as soon as he found the gun, I snatched it from his hand and marched him in here. Didn’t you teach him anything?”

Reggiani’s smile makes me feel sick. I remember it from the mugshots I saw as a child—from his goddamn obituary , for Christ’s sake.

“Don’t rile me, boy. We have a standoff here, and this wasn’t the deal. What do you want?”

“Let my wife and the kid drive away from here in my car,” I say. “Once I know they’re safely away from here, I’ll stand down.”

“No, Leon!”

Emery flies to my side, her chain clanking as she moves. It’s just long enough for her to reach me, and she throws her arms around my waist.

Her warmth almost breaks me. I never thought I’d feel her body against mine again, and for a moment, it’s all I can do not to drop my gun and embrace her, but I must stay on task.

This guy is a sick fuck, and if he can shoot his son dead without flinching, I have to assume he’s capable of anything.

“Emery, val’kiriya .” I nudge her gently. “Let go, baby. You gotta stay away from me.”

She’s crying, tears soaking my sleeve as she buries her face in my arm. “You idiot ,” she says, punching me weakly. “What did you do?”

“He agreed to come here alone and give his life for yours,” Reggiani says. “Idiotic, as you say, but that’s love for you.”

The arm holding my pistol is shaking, and I tense it. “ Moya zhena , back the fuck away,” I say, my voice harsh. “I’m gonna die here. If you get hurt, it’ll be for nothing.”

I shove her harder this time, and she does as she’s told, returning to Desi’s side. Without her hands on me, I suddenly feel cold, like I’m already dead.

“Fine,” Reggiani says, fishing a keyring from his pocket. “I’m bored of this fucking sideshow. Take these.”

He tosses the keys, and they land within Emery’s reach. She sets about unlocking Desi’s collar before freeing herself, but I can’t spare more than the slightest flicker of a glance.

“My keys are in my pocket,” I say. “Take them and go to your father. Demyan will check you over and see to Desi.”

Emery gives a shuddering gasp, and I blink hard, fighting back tears of my own.

“Don’t look back,” I say. “No hanging around—just get out of here. You hear me?”

She comes to me, her hand on my face. She presses her lips to my cheek, her other palm on my thundering heart.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.”

My free arm wraps her waist, and I hold her for a beat, pleading with the universe to slow time to a crawl.

If there’s a God, I doubt he’s down for doing me any favors, but I’d spend a billion years in Purgatory in exchange for one deep, soul-nourishing kiss from my wife.

Her love got under my skin and my neuroses on the run, evicting my self-loathing and replacing it with a new perspective.

If a woman as smart, strong, and sweet as Emery loves me, I gotta have something going for me.

Her hand is in my jacket pocket, and I realize the key isn’t the only thing in there.

“Take the letter,” I say, my voice hoarse. “It’s for you.”

Emery clings to me still, but our time is up. Reggiani’s eyes darken; he’s sick of toying with us.

“Go to the car,” I murmur. “Grab Desi and leave right now.”

“Leon—”

“I said, go , dammit!”

I hate that my last words to her are so harsh. My heart cleaves in two, and the pain is unbearable, but bear it I must.

As long as my wife is safe, the world may keep turning, even if I’m no longer part of it.

Desi’s feet thunder on the floor as he runs to Emery’s side, followed by the door opening behind me.

All I want to do is turn around, but I can’t, and Reggiani knows it. The sadistic smirk on his face tells me everything I need to know.

“Goodbye,” I say, hoping Emery can hear me. “You were the love of my life.”

Desi whispers to himself in Serbian, trying to calm down. Emery’s voice seems to come from miles away. She wants to say so much, but only one word comes out.

“Goodbye.”

I can’t see her, but I feel her pause, and I will her to keep going.

The door opens with a rush of air, then closes. With a roar, my car engine starts up, the wheels spinning, and Emery floors it, tearing down the track with a squeal of tires.

I’m so fucking proud of her.

My wife is a goddamn warrior, and I hope she remembers that for the rest of her days.

I release my breath. Now it’s just me, Reggiani, and the ghosts of my past.

We stare each other down, and it hits me—I no longer feel like the little boy who did too little, too late.

I didn’t fail her. Emery is out of danger and will live on because I did what had to be done. Roman said he didn’t think I’d let love destroy me, but that’s precisely what’s about to happen.

If Reggiani shoots me, I shoot him. It’s the classic old-fashioned catch-22, and I knew it’d go this way.

What I didn’t bet on was the desperate feeling clawing at me now I know Emery is safe.

I can’t hide the truth; it’s written all over my face. Reggiani frowns, but then he figures it out, and his smirk breaks into a shit-eating grin of pleasure.

“You fucking loser,” he says. “You really do love her, don’t you?”

Yes, I do.

Oh God, help me. I want to live.